After the Rain Goes
by prophetoftroy
Summary: Athena is a war orphan. There's nothing strange about it, and she's not bitter! Her parents were heroes, how could she be anything but proud? Now she's been given a chance to meet them and save the people she grew up hearing stories about. But, in doing so she'll have to say goodbye to everything she knows and loves. And she only gets the one chance. Isn't that all anyone gets?


Chapter one.

I was a war orphan; far from the only one of the second Wizarding War of the century. That isn't to say that I didn't have family. My godfather raised me; having lost his parents in the first war of the century, and two of his closest friends in the second. One of those closest friends was my mother. I knew everything there was to know about her that he could tell me. My father too.

I had my father's eyes. Uncle Harry and I thought that was amusing, as everyone always told him he had his mother's. People would stop us when I was younger, while we were in Hogsmeade visiting Hogwarts or in Diagon Alley having ice cream. They'd have a moment of hero worshiping Uncle Harry, and a look of pity for me before telling me that I have my father's eyes; cornflower blue with just the slightest hint of gold around the pupil. Uncle Harry was the first to tell me, usually while trying to brush it for me, that I had my mother's hair; bushy and hard to control, though Aunt Ginny said not as difficult as my mother and not the right color.

The rest of me was anyone's guess. I always had good grades, but not the best. I enjoyed reading, but it wasn't a religious experience for me. I enjoyed getting into trouble, and like both of my parents and everyone else in my family I was good at finding it, but like both parents I was equally good at getting myself out. Which was why, as I walked to Professor McGonagall's office, I thought long and hard about why she might have asked to see me in the official capacity.

It wasn't the fireworks in the Charms corridor, they blamed that on Iago. It wasn't the niffler incident, I didn't think, as I was sure everyone thought that was the Puffs. It couldn't be the mural in the dungeons... could it? That was only last night. I glanced down at my hands to make sure I didn't still have some paint caked under my nails. I found a blue smudge that I licked and rubbed on my robes to clean off.

It wasn't often that my presence was 'officially requested'. I knew Professor McGonagall personally, having grown up in the castle. We had tea twice a week. I was sure, as it had been proven before, that if I was being caught for something she would either, a) take House points, b) give me a detention, or c) tell Uncle Harry. I'd never been caught so off guard, however, as a second year bringing a note to Uncle Draco during Potions class that the Headmistress wished to see me.

"Calico," I absentmindedly gave the gargoyle her password. The statue began to ascend with me still wondering and running through my mind what this could possibly be about. Perhaps it was a tease, to make me think I was in trouble, and there would be tea waiting and one of those meat pies I loved of hers- but when the statue stopped and left me in her office, I was alone.

I stepped in, hearing the stairs behind me descend, and glanced around curiously. There was a tea setting in front of my usual place, but not in front of hers. The fire was going, but had obviously been going for some time and was close to embers.

"Hello?" I called cautiously. "Professor?"

There was no answer, but I really wasn't sure I'd expected one. It was obvious that I was expected to sit, have some tea, and wait for her. Still looking around as I took my seat, I noted with some interest that all of the portraits were abandoned save for Albus Dumbledore; who was watching me with equal interest. I nodded respectfully and lifted my tea cup and saucer to my lips.

"If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight."

I stopped just before the still piping hot tea touched my lips, pulling the cup back and looking over at the portrait. "I beg your pardon?"

He was watching me carefully, as if analyzing me. Uncle Harry said in life he'd always done that. "I said that to your mother June of 1994. It seems like an age, doesn't it?"

I didn't say anything, frozen in interest at the sudden conversation and it's topic. I was a war orphan. It was a point of fact, and nothing I was terribly bitter about, but that didn't mean I didn't hungrily hang on to every word mentioned about my parents.

"Of course, at the time I was referring to Sirius Black and a rather handsome hippogriff, but perhaps in your case you will save even more yet."

I set my tea cup and its saucer back onto the table and rest my hands in my lap, listening curiously to the portrait I'd never really spoken to. "I'm sorry, Professor. I don't understand."

"I know you don't, my dear, but I will explain."

"Then get on with it, and do so without your riddles," another voice cut in, annoyed.

I'd spoken to Professor Snape before, plenty of times. Uncle Harry had told me about his hero, about the bravest man he'd ever met, and I'd set out at a very young age to win said hero over. I can't really say whether or not I succeeded, but I will say that I am the only one among the living aside from Professor McGonagall that he willingly spoke to. This vexed Uncle Harry, who continuously tried to speak with him.

Professor Dumbledore nodded to him. "Of course, Severus. Forgive me, my dear, I do like to prattle on occasion. I am, of course, referring to my plot to send you back in time."

I nodded, stunned, and muttered a repeat, "Of course. Wait, excuse me?"

He smiled and I wondered if the twinkle in the portrait's eye was painted, or if it was magic from beyond the grave. "Think about it, Miss Lupin. Who better to be sent and save all those that could be saved? You were raised with all of the stories, you were raised knowing the events that unfolded, there is no one better that I would send. Think of your parents, your godfather's godfather, Severus here, and an immeasurable amount of others."

I glanced at Professor Snape when his name was mentioned- he looked quite put out and as though he disagreed strongly with whatever the other portrait was planning- and back at Dumbledore. "And I suppose you'll add your own death to the list of those that can be saved?"

He smiled wryly. "Actually, just the opposite. I expect you to not interfere in that regard, if you would be so kind."

"So, you want to send me back in time to save my parents, save everyone that I can, but let you die?" I asked, in monotonous disbelief.

His smile widened to a manic grin. "That is absolutely right."

"You're mad," I told him. "You're absolutely insane. How were you ever able to convince people to do what you told them when everything that comes out of your mouth seems to be the ramblings of a patient from St. Mungo's Janice Thackey ward?"

"I understand your-"

I stood up, picking up my school bag that I'd set down when coming in- and I tried to keep my tone civil, respectful, but resolute. "No, you don't. You _don't_ understand now, how could you, when you never understood while you were alive? You-I-you would think death would slow you down! Professor, I appreciate the tea, as I'm sure you're responsible for my being summoned here, and I wish you the best; but I am not my parents, and I am not Uncle Harry. You cannot ask impossible tasks of me and expect me to do them without a second thought. Have a wonderful rest of your afternoon."

Potions had been my last class of the day, and by the time I was exiting the office, it had been let out and I had the afternoon to spend thinking about Dumbledore's proposition. Despite what I said, I was intrigued. Despite what I said, I sort of wanted to do it.

"Athena!"

I turned around to find my best friend running towards me, and past everyone else who were making their way outside to enjoy the uncharacteristically warm afternoon for early October. She was a war orphan too. Her parents were both Death Eaters, but she and her twin brother Iago were taken in as toddlers by Aunt Luna. When Luna and Uncle Harry started courting, and later married, they became family too.

"Hey, Eris," I mumbled.

She ran in front of me and began walking backwards, her face pulled forward in concern. "Are you okay? Iago told me about Professor McGonagall wanting to see you. It wasn't about the graffiti, was it?"

Iago, a Ravenclaw, had Potions with me- a Gryffindor. Eris was a Hufflepuff. I wasn't upset about Iago 'telling on me'. He, Eris, and I were pretty inseparable and had been since our guardians began courting when we were nine. They'd both been there last night and the three of us had painted the corridor together.

"No, it wasn't the graffiti. It was Professor Dumbledore's portrait."

The last bit I said with my voice down to a whisper as we continued on towards the Lake. Her violet eyes widened. "Dumbledore?! What on _Earth_ for?"

I wanted to wait until Iago was with us, but seeing my friend's expression I couldn't help but pull her to a secluded area with me and tell her everything that was said. When I was done, her face was red.

"Unbelievable," she sputtered angrily. "He-he thinks just because your parents would, means that you'd drop everything on some ridiculous _quest_ of his? Just like that? Oh, that's just so _rude_! Why, I'm going up there right now to give that portrait a piece of my mind. Maybe I'll take some lye with me."

"No!" I stopped her from marching back to the castle, the way she always did when she thought there an injustice to be dealt with. "Wait. I-I'm actually thinking about it."

She turned on me just as fast. "Are you crazy?! His schemes are what got your parents killed! Do you think they'd have died if he was up front with people?"

I crossed my arms in a defensive stance, quick to justify my parent's actions. "They knew what they were getting into, and we weren't there. It's different hearing about it through stories rather than being there. It's different hearing about _them_ through stories. I could _save_ them, Eris. Wouldn't _you_, if given the chance to save _yours_?"

Eris glared at me, violet eyes standing out in anger against sable skin. "No, I wouldn't. They're dead, and that's just how it is. It's different, Attie. They were-" she glanced around and dropped her voice. "They were Death Eaters. Do you think for one second that my family would have been a happy one? That they'd love Iago and I a tenth of the amount Luna does? Merlin, Luna or Harry might have been the ones to serve the final blow! My parents weren't heroes, Athena, and me having the theoretical choice to save them wouldn't have _made_ them heroes."

"But my parents _were_," Athena said. "I could meet them. I could see the stories first hand."

"And if you save them, if you go back, will those stories even happen to make them the people you want to meet so much?"

"They're my parents. I'd want to meet them regardless."

Eris gave a heavy sigh. "Then I suppose you've already made your decision."

*

"Are you okay, Athena?" Aunt Luna's eyes were wide and questioning, the cooing baby James on her hip. "You've wrackspurts. I haven't seen them swarm so much since Harry and I were in school."

I smiled and took James from her to hold my godson. It was a vicious cycle, I'd thought when they told me they were pregnant; Harry was Sirius Black's godson, and my godfather, and now I was godmother to his son. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

She nodded, going back to the grading she'd been busy with when I came in to their rooms. "I suspect that was Harry's problem too. Hermione's too."

"Oh?" I asked, pulling my necklace away from James' little hands. It was my grandmother's engagement ring my father had proposed with, on a nice long chain Uncle Harry had gotten for me.

"Different, but she always had too much on her mind. I suppose she didn't have the amount of wrackspurts Harry did because she lacked the amount of angst he had."

"Hey!" Uncle Harry entered just as she said that, and exclaimed in mock hurt. She smiled serenely up at him and he kissed her, before coming over to me where James was trying to escape my hold to launch himself as his daddy. The two year old had Harry's messy, black hair and Luna's sparkling blue eyes. "Hey, Attie. How's it going?"

He kissed my forehead like any other Sunday, and headed to the kitchen to start dinner. I'd come early, earlier than Eris and Iago would, hoping that by the end of the evening I would have a clearer answer to Dumbledore's proposition. Despite what I'd told him, something told me that he knew I was mulling things over. Something told me if I went, I wouldn't come back- a foreboding feeling deep in the pit of my stomach.

"Good," I lied. Before he could catch that it was a lie, as Uncle Harry always knew, I continued. "I'm pretty sure I aced your test, and I think I did okay on Professor Ferwent's theory about falling stars and charting their final collision spot."

"Brilliant," he grinned. "I know Neville was going on about your bed of Dittany. Something about your compost. Draco will appreciate that."

I shrugged. It was nothing. I'd just done some research, made my own compost, and was able to maximize its potency. "Uncle Harry? Will you, will you tell me the story again? About my parents meeting. I know it was long before they got together, but, I was thinking about the Dementors. Tell me about your third year?"

He frowned, looking over- I'm sure- at how desperate I sounded. I hadn't asked about them in some time, as the stories I knew and little points of fact all came easily and without limit. He set James down in his play area and started dicing mushrooms. He gestured for me to join him and take over the tomatoes. He always got them all over his hands.

"Alright," he said. "Well, you know Mr. Weasley had told me about Sirius Black the escaped mass murderer?"

I sort of smiled, imagining my grandfather-for all intents and purposes- telling him about the danger. "He said he thought Sirius would come after you. Because of Riddle."

He nodded. I'd heard the story many times, one of the few adventures of Uncle Harry's that had my father. They all had Mum. "Well, I was telling Ron and Hermione about it on the train to Hogwarts. We'd had to take a compartment that had someone in it already, an adult, which I'm sure you see how strange _that_ was. Hermione liked to go and speak to the conductor, but usually the only adult we saw on the train was the trolley woman. He was asleep, shivering under a thin and patched cloak he used as a blanket. The moon had been just days before- he had to be exhausted."

"His suitcase said Professor R. J. Lupin," I added.

"It did. Who's telling the story?" I rolled my eyes and let him continue. "I'd just finished telling them about Sirius when the windows iced over, and the lights went out."

It was a story I'd heard countless times, and by the end of it Eris and Iago were home; sitting at the table and telling Luna about their week, both leaving out my visit to see Dumbledore. Dinner was in the oven, and Uncle Harry and I joined everyone at the dining table.

"Do you think Dumbledore knew?" I asked the question I'd always wondered, but had never voiced. "I mean, he seemed to truly believe Sirius meant you harm, but accepted your story before you even were about to tell it to him. Do you think he knew all along that Sirius was innocent?"

Everyone was quiet, and Luna's eyes went to Uncle Harry- who seemed deep in thought as to how to say what he was thinking. At last he said, "Maybe. It never occurred to me at the time, but I have thought a little about it after. If he did, then I believe in my heart that he had reason for everything. You have to understand, Athena, that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard at the time. He was powerful, had experience, and was wise in a way that's hard to express in stories. He might have known Sirius was innocent, and if he did, I trust that Dumbledore would have thought everything through and just decided that it was the best outcome. That it was best for the Greater Good."

"But, doesn't it bother you? Didn't it bother you then? Years you could have known Sirius, time you could have had together. Didn't you ever want to confront him?"

Harry nodded, staring off in a way I knew to mean he was there- time traveling in a different way. "Once, just after Sirius died, but- what would be the point? It was so long ago. I'm not the same person. Dumbledore had all the cards, and he knew how the best way to go was. That's just how it was. I can't even imagine being in such a position as he was, with such a responsibility. Can you?"

I was caught speechless, my mind winding down to a simple answer. I really couldn't imagine, but in accepting Dumbledore's quest... I could try.

**A/N: Despite this first chapter, it's not a Dumbledore basher. The way I explained it to my husband is, she has only heard stories. She didn't know Dumbledore alive, or have that respect and reverence for him that we as readers and the other characters have. She comes around. Though, I think it important to say here that I despise Dumbledore and think he's worse than Voldemort.**

**-Acacia.**

**PS. I also feel it's important to tell you that this idea spanned from a one shot I wrote called Promise For After (Get it? 'Promise for After' and then 'After the Rain Goes'? I'll give anyone a cookie if they can tell me where the title came from.)**** In this, Hermione was pregnant when she left Remus at Bill and Fleur's wedding to go Horcrux Hunting. Let me know what you think!**


End file.
